Blood Brothers
by Zephyra of Breeze
Summary: The three of them were brothers, not by birth, but by blood. Baltics-centric. rated T for blood. No pairings


"Because they're my brothers!" As soon as the words left his mouth, Lithuania knew they it was exactly the wrong thing to say. Ukraine had left just yesterday to proclaim her independence. Belarus was still around but Russia was terrified of her. Siblings were not a topic he would want to discuss at the moment.

Lithuania's breath caught in his throat, but Russia's smile hadn't changed (not that that ever meant anything) and he hadn't reached for the pipe that leaned casually against the wall.

"Brothers?" Russia asked, "I wasn't aware the three of you were related…"

Swallowing the lump of fear that had materialized in his throat, Lithuania replied, "We… we're not… not really…"

The eldest Baltic could feel two pairs of nervous eyes watching the scene. For them, he swallowed again and continued, "We just call ourselves that—"

Russia cut him off. "Not related? And yet you defy me in the name of this brotherhood?"

The tall nation stepped closer, and suddenly Lithuania noticed a gleam in one gloved hand—a lethal knife, probably belonging to Belarus. He hadn't seen Russia draw it from its hiding place.

He took a step backward and Russia held out his free hand.

"Estonia , Latvia , come over here please."

As their instincts shrieked to run, they hesitantly complied.

When all four were standing close, in a trembling huddle, Russia commanded, "Arm. Latvia , you first. Hold your arm."

Latvia squeaked and swung out his fist, the knuckles white with apprehension and the palm facing the ground.

Russia seized his forearm and turned the boy's arm over, then plunged the knife in and drew it from elbow to wrist. Blood instantly welled in the wound, despite the shallowness of the cut, and dripped off his arm, pooling on the kitchen tiles.

The small boy collapsed to the ground in pain, and the other two blanched.

Estonia opened his mouth but couldn't manage a word, not even the boy's name.

Russia marked him next, a solid crimson stripe along his arm.

Lithuania was last, and knew there was no way to avoid sharing the other Baltics' fate. He shut his eyes and winced as the blade penetrated the soft skin at the crook of his elbow. It sliced downwards, too fast and agonizingly slow as he fought Russia's gloved hand on his wrist. Then it was over and he could breathe, falling to his knees.

He could hear Estonia's gasps, Latvia's dry sobs, and his own ragged breathing. He opened his eyes in time to see Russia seize the other two and press the cuts against each other. He blearily observed, unable to react, as the large hand released Latvia and curled again around his wrist. Then Estonia's blood was running down his arm and he could see shocked green eyes behind glasses.

Then Russia pressed his forearm against Latvia's and the two injuries trembled against each other for just a moment.

Russia stood, that smile still on his face, looking fondly down at the bloody and defeated nations.

"You are brothers _now, _da?" His high voice was delighted, as though he had done them all a favor.

Brothers?

Estonia and Latvia's blood was in him now. He didn't feel any different, he mused, as he crawled numbly around bandaging the other two. He supposed Estonia bandaged his arm, but his mind was fuzzy by then. Maybe the three of them stumbled upstairs, or maybe they passed out and Russia carried them up. It didn't matter.

Hours later, Lithuania was woken by a dull throbbing in his arm.

He groaned and opened his eyes. He was lying on his stomach in a double bed (Russia's?) with Latvia next to him and Estonia beyond him. At his groan Estonia's eyes flickered open.

The two stared at each other over Latvia's pale curls. Lithuania mouthed "I'm sorry".

For a moment he wondered if Estonia had seen his lips move. The other boy's glasses were folded neatly on the bedside table, after all.

Then the blonde boy rolled onto his side and raised his injured arm in the air.

Lithuania smiled and mirrored the motion.

Bloodied palm touched bloodied palm, forming a protective roof over the younger boy in the middle. Russia's attempt to fracture their alliance had only made them blood brothers. They held the position, silent so as not to wake the youngest brother.

Then the pain shooting through their injured arms fractured the camaraderie of the moment, and they collapsed, again unconscious.


End file.
